


A Gold Chain About Her Hips

by kittykatknits



Series: Pluck a Red Rose Blowin [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Not a Poldark AU, Poldarkish, Porn, R plus L equals J, Smut, pregnancy reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykatknits/pseuds/kittykatknits
Summary: He stroked her belly and bent down. “Turn away your gaze little Benjen, your mother is soon to be completely debauched,” he murmured._____As Jon promised, he took their family away to Dragonstone. One day starts with him confronting Sansa over a hidden secret but ends with a bath and Sansa wearing nothing but a gold chain around her hips.





	A Gold Chain About Her Hips

**Author's Note:**

> For Ray. As requested, that scene Jon described for you. :)

More than two moons had passed since Jon had whisked her and the children away to Dragonstone. Although rare, Sansa had always enjoyed their visits to the island. Her days tended to be filled with leisure, time in the gardens or walks along the beach. They had played monsters-and-maidens several times with the children and Jon had spent many a morning teaching young Ned the use of wooden swords. It was bliss.

Sansa particularly enjoyed mornings such as this one, intimate meals taken together in the solar attached to the lord’s chambers. They were away from the great hall, away from the household, away from all the retainers and supplicants who felt the need to visit because the lord was in residence. The bodies, their scents mixed with the stink of roasted pig and stuffed goose made her feel ill. In the solar, the windows stood open to allow the salty breeze to drift through, cool and cleansing, taking with whatever odors the food might give.

She was content to take small bites of the sweet bread, slowly filling her stomach between sips of tea. The chatter of Ned and Lyanna distracted her from the morning upset that had come upon her in the past fortnight.

Her peace stayed with her until the maester came to take them for morning lessons and Jon brought up the very subject she had been avoiding.

“Did you plan to share your news with me before or after a new babe fell out of your cunt?” Sansa did not miss the sharp bite in his question, the harshness of his voice.

“You speak crudely,” she deflected.

“I speak in anger,” Jon countered. He leaned back in his chair, looking a lord sitting in judgment upon of his subjects, his face stern, like the old kings of winter. “Your waist has thickened and you pick at your food as if it has gone to rot. I recognize the signs but I fail to understand why.”

Sansa stilled her features, not wanting to provide any more answers than she spoke. “I merely wished to remain silent until I knew for certain.”

“And yet I have known for some time. Three times before, you share at your first suspicion. Now, you hide the truth. Will you tell me why?” As he asked, Jon’s frown changed from anger to hurt. The sharp glare of his eyes left him. The earlier bite of voice faded away, to be replaced by sheer misery.

Jon could seem cold and severe to those who did not know him well but they were wrong in their understanding. Jon felt very deeply and today she could see distress clearly on him. ,

Sansa wrapped her arms around herself, even as the soft winds carried the warm southron heat with them. “I am close to four moons gone, as near as I can tell.” She wasn’t certain how to explain the rest, how to tell him she did not want to return to Winterfell, the very place she had spent many years longing for. Even now, so many years later, her old instincts would lead her to remain quiet, to hide away her wants and fears.

Jon stood, coming to where she sat nearby to pull her towards him. Sansa allowed herself to lean into him the smallest amount, just enough to feel the heat of his body.

“Five more moons to go before we have another.” He placed one hand on her belly, lightly stroking with his fingertips and giving her that dear smile she loved. “It’s Benjen, the old gods won’t break the pattern now.”

Sansa placed her hand over his and gave a hesitant smile, knowing what he would soon utter.

“We should return to Winterfell, I would rather you under the care of Maester Luwin.”

It was as she feared, Jon would not want a child born in the south, would force their family home at his first opportunity. She stepped away from, just far enough so she was no longer in his reach. “You promised five more moons, Jon.”

His head jerked back, ever so slightly. Jon was not used to her refusing his touches. “The idea of returning to Winterfell upsets you. Please, Sansa, do not shut me out.” His plea was painful to hear. She had not wanted to hurt him, It was why she had remained silent.

She drew close to him once more, taking his hands in hers to lace their fingers together before drawing them up to press against his chest. “I am selfish, Jon. I do not want to share you with the north or Robb or anyone. This is the first time in our marriage it has been the four of us, together this way. If we go home to Winterfell, it will end. We both know that.”

“The north and Robb can go hang.” He pulled his hands from hers, placing them on her neck so his thumbs rubbed ever so gently behind her ears. “We can stay here, for some time yet, if that is your wish. Robb did not leave Winterfell until close to a year after little Cat was born. Will you give me the chance to find us a solution?” He leaned into her, so close his breath was hot against her skin, before feathering a light kiss against her lips.

Sansa wiped the tears from her eyes as she nodded in agreement. “Of  course I will, but I am not ready for us to leave just yet.” She flashed him a bright smile, hoping to erase the last bit of melancholy that lay between them. “Besides, once we go home, Rickon will challenge you to another one of his duels. You have defiled his innocent sister.”

Jon snorted. “I fear that boy will never approve of your choice for a mate.” He gave her another kiss, a touch firmer than the last. “I’ll make you my champion, he won't know what to do with himself.”

“We should go, you promised Ned he could practice with the bow today, you'll be teaching both of them before the day is over.” Her voice was light, the worry she had hidden away inside disappearing the more they spoke.

“Soon,” he whispered against her lips. Jon sprinkled more kisses along her jaw and cheek, using one hand to lift her chin, gaining access to her neck and lower.

“We do not have the time,” she murmured, even as her head fell back and her skin tingled from his open-mouthed kisses. “Tonight, I have something for you.”

“Tonight, is it?” he questioned, his voice low and raspy as he pulled away. Their foreheads touched as he embraced her. “It’ll be a Benjen, I know it,” he said once more, repeating his earlier statement.

Sansa did not doubt him, Jon had been right with all three of  their children. She could still recall the night they had laid abed together, Jon had announced their child had shared his name with him, Brandon. He’d spoken with a calm assurity that had amused her that night but he’d spoken true. “Benjen. Shall we go rescue the maester?”

Jon offered his arm and led her from the solar, to another day of family and frivolity. Sansa had been correct, Lyanna adored her older brother so if he learned the bow, then so would she. The day went on until the evening meal, Jon taking the two children with him to the great hall, leaving her with enough time to eat and take a bath while he put the children to bed.

Sansa had just pulled on her robe, the blue silk clinging to her still damp skin, to hide what lay underneath, when Jon entered their bed chamber. “Hot water and soap awaits you.”

She took his hand, leading him towards their private bath. Most rooms within Dragonstone lacked a private bathing space, requiring the occupant to make use of the communal bath or beg a tub to be dragged into their rooms.

Jon shut the door behind them before pulling her hips towards his, letting her feel his hardness before delivering a kiss. “Does my wife accuse me of possessing some foul odor?”

Sansa pulled off his thin leather gloves, placing them on a nearby table. “I merely wished to bathe you, Jon.”  The brown leather jerkin he wore came next, proof of his late afternoon time in the training yard.

Jon’s nostrils flared as she splayed her hands across his stomach and chest. Sansa loved the feel of hard, smooth skin that lay underneath. She drew up his tunic, setting it next to the jerkin and gloves. “Your boots, Jon,” she purred huskily into his ear.

Sansa tucked one finger into the top of his breeches, leading him backward until he dropped into a nearby chair. Jon attempted to pull the belt of her robe free but she slapped his hand away. He pulled off one and then the other, setting them nearby, without his eyes leaving hers, before standing before her once more.

She drew close to him, she could hear his trembling breath in the quiet of the room. She slid the tip of one finger down his chest to the tip of his breeches before tracing the V shape of his hips and stomach that she loved so very much. “You are so beautiful to me,” she whispered. Sansa had always loved Jon’s body, the breadth of his shoulders and the strength she felt in his arms when he held her.

She began to slowly tug the laces of his breeches when one of his came over hers, stopping her efforts. “You best cease, if you want that bath,” he warned, his voice had become that deep growl she knew so well.

Sansa followed his warning, stepping away as Jon removed his breeches and smallclothes. She could not resist giving a gentle stroke of his manhood, earning herself a bite on the shoulder for it. Jon climbed in, settling back against the tub to enjoy the heat of the water.

The room was darkened, lit only by a few stray candles that littered the room, making the shadows flicker and dart about. It smelled of the sandalwood oil she had dropped in the water, a sharp, masculine odor that Sansa enjoyed.

Jon closed his eyes, content to let her scrub his arms and back with the lemon-scented soap she used. “I have some news for you,” he murmured in a lazy drawl.

“What news would that be?” Sansa began to scrub his hair, slowly massaging and scratching at his scalp, the way she knew he liked. She leaned down to kiss his nearby temple. Her robe was beginning to cling even more to her, the silk fabric turning slightly damp in the hot, humid air.

“I sent a raven to Sam, asking him to come for a visit. He and Gilly can be here for the birth if you wish or we can go back to Winterfell. I trust him if we are not with maester Luwin.” He smiled, enjoying her ministrations.

“Sweet Sam? If he could come, I would like that very much, Jon,” she sobbed. Sansa understood Jon’s anxieties regarding her pregnancies, his own mother had died birthing him. There were very few he would trust to care for him, the Dragonstone maester was not one of them. But, if Sam came, they would not need to leave the island so soon, she would get their promised time away.

“Sweet Sam? Should I be jealous? But, yes, I am sure he will come if we ask. I need to make arrangements with Robb but he will understand, I should think.” His tone was light, teasing.

“Sam loves the same stories I do, he reads to me while I embroider. We talk of poetry and romance. It seems to me he has some qualities you lack.” she challenged, smirking at him.

Jon attempted a threatening glare before laughter overtook him. “I shall endeavor to learn from him, except for the poetry part. I have a new book, the history of warfare in the free cities. I will share it with you, gladly.”

Sansa pretended to be horrified. “Perhaps we could settle for a companionable silence?”

“A fair arrangement, indeed. Now rinse me, there is still much to do this evening.” His voice went low as he finished speaking, an unspoken promise.

Sansa quickly did so, taking a nearby comb through his hair to smooth out  the curls as they dried. Jon stood, the rivulets of water fell down his body in a steady stream, pooling in his beard and the hair on his chest and legs. She gave into the temptation, licking a stream of falling water off his chest, across one nipple and up towards his clavicle. Jon growled before stepping out of the water to grab her hips, pulling her towards him until she felt the hard evidence of his arousal.

She pushed away. “Wait, I have something from you,” she said, before turning around, ignoring Jon’s huff of frustration. Sansa pulled the narrow belt of her silk rope apart, sliding the garment off to pool at her feet. Quickly, she pinched her nipples, turning them into hardened peaks. She turned once again to face her husband, pulling her hair back so he could see the hidden objects in her ears.

Jon stared, taking in the vision that was his wife. “Gods,” he croaked. “The harvest feast….”

Sansa stood before him, almost completely bare. “As you described it. Pearl earrings for the white of Ghost and a necklace with rubies for the red of your house.” She said this last part while slowly circling one nipple and then the other before lowering her hand down her belly to her hips. Jon’s gaze followed her movements, as if under a spell. “And a gold chain about my hips.”

He swallowed and saw his cock harden further in front of him, heavy with arousal. He flicked one pink nipple before lightly circling it, repeating the motion with her other breast. Sansa’s belly was swollen ever so slightly, almost imperceptible to most. But, he had memorized every delicious curve of her body, knew every slope and valley.

Sansa took his hand, leading him back into their chambers, stopping short of their bed. Jon realized absently that he was still wet, had forgotten to dry himself at his first glimpse of his wife’s naked flesh. He stroked her belly and bent down. “Turn away your gaze little Benjen, your mother is soon to be completely debauched,” he murmured.

She took his hand, raising it to her lips to kiss his open palm. “You should not speak so to our son.” She gave him a seductive smile, one brow arched.

“He can’t understand a word I say.” Jon began to pick her up but she stepped away.

“You said we would dance.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll dance between your legs.”

“And a kiss?”

Jon thought this was obvious. “I’ll kiss between your legs.” Even so, he placed one hand on her hip to draw her close, threading the other in her silken tresses before kissing her. Their lips blended together until she opened for him, letting him taste and lick at her. He drifted lower, towards the lobe of her ear to suck gently. “Put your legs around me,” he growled before lifting her up.

This time, she made no effort to draw away, wrapping her legs around his hips as he walked them towards the side of the bed. He could feel his cock rubbing against her entrance. “Lay down and spread your legs for me,” he ordered while setting her on the edge of the bed. He began to slide his palm over her body, up her legs and across the smooth skin of her belly, enjoying to soft feel of her against his own calloused skin. “Do you remember that day we disappeared into the forest? I took you three times, but it was the first time I fucked you, that’s when it happened. You were on top of me, screaming in pleasure as your hair streamed behind you, a golden red. Then, I put Benjen in you then.”

“Jon…” she whimpered. Sansa’s eyes were lidded in desire. A flush had spread from her cheeks and next to the top of her lovely teats. He knew what she wanted.

“As my wife commands.” He went to his knees in front of her, planting light kisses up the inside of her thigh until he felt the buck of her hips against him. “Patience, love,” he hummed against her mound, the red curls tickling his lips. Jon met her eye with his before sliding one finger into the slick folds of her cunt, already wet with desire.

Jon pressed his lips together. “Beautiful,” he whispered to himself before giving his first lick, moving upwards to press against the bud he knew lay hidden away, circling it, and repeating the motion twice more before licking down her cunt, to slowly enter her with his tongue. Jon put his arms around her thighs in an effort to still Sansa’s bucking hips before thrusting into her, quick glides against her silken walls.

Her moans grew louder, into a keening wail, so Jon withdrew. “Come on Sansa, my beautiful wife, let me hear you,” he breathed against her.  He began to place pressure against her bud, circling and licking until she screamed his name and stilled. He kissed his way up her mound, meeting her eyes as she gazed down on him. Jon could feel her slickness in the coarse hairs of his board. “I will never tire of seeing you come undone this way.”

Jon stood up, ignoring the slight bit of stiffness in his knees, before climbing on the bed and kissing her once more. “I’ll go to sleep tonight with the taste of you still on my tongue.” He slid between her legs and cupped one breast. “I did not ask if you have experienced tenderness this time.” He remembered before, when she had been with child and complained of soreness in her breasts. He had been forbidden to touch them.

Sansa merely shook her head. “None at all, at least so far.” She grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him over her. The necklace she wore was a simple design, it was one of the first pieces he had given her. The dark red of the jewels somehow made her nipples look closer to a dark rose.

“Soon, they will grow heavy once more with milk,” he rasped. Jon took her right nipple into his mouth and began to suckle. Sansa had given suck to all of their children rather than make use of a nursemaid. He expected she would do so again, and Jon intended to watch.

“Not for some time yet,” she muttered. Her eyes fell closed as she relaxed into his touches.

“You planned this, I have not seen that chain before.”  He moved to her other breast.

Sansa merely hummed a response, sliding her hands down his back towards his hips.

He slid inside her and stilled, reveling in the feel of her, hot and wet. “We will have the maester exam you tomorrow.”

“Jon, the man has hair growing out of his ears. Never talk of him again when you are between my legs. Now, move,” she ordered, lightly kicking his hips.

He gave a growly laugh. “Never again.” Jon rolled his hips against her before she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close. He was a dutiful husband, Jon put his weight on his forearms, before thrusting into her, hard and fast, as she liked it. The only sounds in the room were the wet slaps of their skin and the grunts and gasps his movements tore from their bodies. “You were mine the very day I found you. Mine then and mine now.,” he somehow managed to utter between clenched teeth and harsh breathing.

“Then show me, Jon Snow.” Her fingers scratched at his back, from his shoulders and down along his spine.

He lost it at her challenge, his pace became brutal as the smell of their lovemaking overtook him. He heard her murmur his name over and over but the only response he could give were feral snarls.

Sansa’s eyes closed and her head fell back on the pillow as her legs drew even tighter around him. Jon slammed inside her once, twice more before stilling as his seed pulsed inside of her. He heard himself grunt a final time before collapsing onto her, panting.

They lay still, their limbs twisted together as their breathing slowed. Jon pulled himself up to kiss along her brow and stroke her hair.

“We need another bath.”

He quietly laughed. “Take your jewelry off and break my spell? No, we will stay here.” There was no point to it, he intended for them to go at it again soon enough.

Jon moved off of her and settled onto his back, pulling her with so she lay between his chest and shoulder, his arm around her hip. “Are you hungry? I can have something brought.”

“A little but not yet. Besides, if you leave, the spell will be broken.” She pulled away from him to sit up, her hair falling around her as she did so. “We could steal into the kitchen in search of sweet bread like a pair of children.”

“Or I could have all the sweet bread in Dragonstone brought to the solar for us with much less effort.” He drew up to kiss her.

“And apple butter.”

“Soon…”

  
  
  
  



End file.
